Dark Silence

The house is empty. The darkness is like a cloying film over everything. Still I sit here, unmoving and uncaring. Every door and window is shut, but still an unnatural chill descends over me. The pianos are silent, and I begin to think they will be for a very long time. I have not slept. But what does it matter? Now I am free to return to my nocturnal ways, wandering the parks late at night to seek out feline companions. Still I wonder, as I look at the heavy clouds gathering overhead...when will this aimless wandering and wondering end? The air is silent save for the gentle trickle of water in the miniature waterfall in the garden. I find myself receding into the shadows once again, blending in seamlessly with a night of my own making. This is how it should be. My papers are scattered over the floor, and I cannot understand where the cold gusts come from. It is time, perhaps, to take the hand of my old friend and allow him to lead me away from the life of normalcy that I foolishly crave so much. It is time to resume my place among the fallen, and I have granted myself a dignified exit from the sun and all his children. I guess this is goodbye then. My whispers will die away to nothing, and the memory of me will fade.
Don't forget to remember me.